I’m not trying to prove I’m young. I’m proving I’m still capable.

Getting older has a way of reminding you that you’re getting older. Sometimes it’s the sore knees, the extra recovery day, or that first step out of the tent in the morning that feels a little stiffer than it used to.

I’ll be honest… when I feel my age, it makes me mad. Not because I want to be 25 again, but because I know I’m capable of more. I refuse to let a number decide what I can and cannot do. So instead of slowing down, I lace up my trail runners, throw on my pack, and go find something difficult. A longer trail. More elevation. A summit that reminds me I still have it in me. Not to prove anything to anyone else, but to remind myself that I’m still capable of hard things.

The mountains don’t care how old you are. They don’t make the trail easier because you’ve had more birthdays. They simply ask if you’re willing to keep putting one foot in front of the other. As long as I can answer “yes,” I’ll keep chasing the next ridge, the next lake, and the next summit.

Growing older is inevitable. Giving up isn’t.